


What Can I Do?

by d6dreams (staticfiction)



Category: Day6 (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Gratuitous Smut, It's just really smutty okay, Jock!6 - Ice Hockey, Romance, Shameless Smut, Warm and Fuzzy Feelings, You Have Been Warned
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-02
Updated: 2019-12-12
Packaged: 2021-02-25 22:25:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 20,318
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21647986
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/staticfiction/pseuds/d6dreams
Summary: The team calls me Sunshine, but ask anyone else and they’ll tell you I’m a bad girl. They know it and I know it, and what’s even better is I really don’t care how they vilify me. All that matters are my grades are up, I’m good at my job as student team manager, and my best kept secret remains a secret.I know nothing can come from sneaking around with Sungjin—he’s too good for me anyway—captain of the hockey team, all-around good guy, and way more attractive and so much more than most people’s first impression of him. But when he starts looking at me like I’m literal sunshine when I’m nothing but trouble? That’s where I draw the line. But no matter how hard I try I can’t stay away from him.I know it’s pathetic, but what can I do?
Relationships: Park Sungjin/Original Character(s)
Comments: 17
Kudos: 118





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> It's all made up. None of it is real. The Laws of Physics don't matter.
> 
> \- spin-off from 121U, best read together but am writing them as standalones even though the plots run concurrent to each other.  
\- unbeta'd just like my life

A one night stand with a member of the sports team you’re managing is at best a record-holder for Most Amazing Night Ever and at worst Cruel and Unusual Punishment. Most days I skate, figuratively, somewhere in between. Right about the board, just on the line of _awkward_.

Awkward, because of course it’s awkward as fuck. What else would it be? It’s one thing having seen the guy naked—granted, I’ve seen the team in varied states of undress and then some—and a whole another thing to have handled his equipment beyond my usual responsibilities.

Pun always intended.

To look him in the eye after the fact is a subtle art form I’ve come to master. It’s being able to separate my job as team manager from that girl he slept with that one time, and being professional and unaffected in the face of potential disaster. Talking to the guy like nothing happened deserves some reward, because the truth of the matter is while _I_’m mostly unaffected, _he_ is the one who acts as though we’ve done things we shouldn’t have done, and thus I have to do double the emotional labor to keep us both at a working capacity.

For the record, there are no rules against this.

I have no personal rules against this.

And it’s not like we had sex by accident. It’s not like I tripped and his you-know fell into my whats-it. Neither were we under any external influence or otherwise compromised. Like the responsible human person that he is, he pulled away from the kissing and sat me down to have A Conversation about what was going on.

Was it consensual? Check.

Were we being safe and responsible? Check and check.

And then he asked if what we were about to do was going to affect the hockey team, and I answered, honestly and frankly, “No, of course not.”

So I don’t know what exactly his problem is because no matter how many times I look back at that night, I can’t place the exact moment everything went sideways. Sure, the experience wasn’t mind-blowing, but it wasn’t totally and completely disappointing. If anything, it was totally and completely normal. Awkward, but normal. Also for consideration, after falling down on the ice way more times than I can keep count just hours before, I’m still amazed we managed to even get in on. True, he was very gentle. Also true, regardless of the activity prior to the main event, he would have still been gentle because that’s just how he’s wired. After the fact, we agreed that, for peace of mind, to go about the future as though nothing happened between us. Then he said goodnight and left.

The following Monday, when I came to hockey practice to officially report as team manager, the would be future team captain kept true to his word to act as though _nothing_ happened. Likewise, I’ve kept my end of the secret tightly locked and closely-guarded inside my chest. And so that’s how it’s been since.

If by some miracle we get over the awkwardness, the torture sneaks in almost immediately.

Park Sungjin, junior defenseman and captain of the university men’s ice hockey team, is inevitable.

Also inevitable is the sense memory of his heated breaths against my skin, his ragged sighs and throaty moans against my ear, his rough hands pulling me into him, and his hungry kisses, lips and teeth, and just about everything that was good about that night.

Admittedly, it is for those exact reasons—self-flagellation, included—that I have no qualms barging into the locker rooms after practice ends this fine morning. Not even two steps inside, and I’m assaulted by a mess of players peeling off their layers one by one and dropping helmets and gear onto the benches and the floor. It’s barely a week into the new semester, before the regular season even starts, so the lockers still smell like industrial grade cleaning solution and disinfectant, but it won’t take long before all that changes.

Even though I know there’s no use attempting to prolong the fresh clean smell, I put my whistle between my lips and blow loud enough for the sound to echo across the tiles and down the hallway behind me. Once I have their attention, I stride into the middle of the room, plant my boot on top of a free bench and raise my clipboard and tap the stack of sheets on it.

It’s quiet enough that I don’t have to raise my voice. Not that I could. Speaking above a certain level does this thing to my throat and I end up puking. I wish I was kidding. “No health form, no suiting up for the next scrimmage,” I say. “So for the rest of you who haven’t submitted their forms yet, you have until the end of this week. Don’t make me name names.”

“Drop the names,” a senior says from the far corner of the room. I silence him with a look and he snaps his mouth shut and turns his eyes down to the floor. Just because he’s older and he’s been here before I took the job doesn’t give him license to talk over me.

“Likewise,” I continue, “For the rest of you on scholarships, you need to get me all that paperwork so I can do what I do and keep you all on the team and in your respective majors.”

My job is to keep the team together—planning, logistics, communications, and everything else in between. This means both the players and the equipment. A good third of the team are scholarship kids, some of the best players included, so it’s also on me to make sure we have our best team in time for the preseason games to get everyone conditioned for the playoffs. Also part of my job, the only easy bits, are purchase orders and general upkeep.

“If anyone has last minute gear necessities, you have to let me know by tomorrow the latest because I’m sending these in tomorrow before my last class. That’s four in the afternoon, so you have to let me know by then. Otherwise, your equipment failures become your problem and if you come running to me you better come with a solution because it’s officially not my problem anymore.”

“I thought my equipment is always your business.” Anything that comes out of James’ mouth and is directed at me is always creepy and gross, and because he’s a senior he thinks he can get away with it. He’s turned all the way toward me, and if he thinks I’ll back down just because he’s shirtless and he expects me to fawn, then he’s got something else coming at him.

I sweep my eyes a little to the left where Kang Younghyun is watching this exchange with those piercing, knowing, eyes of his. We’ve known each other since the summer before freshman year officially began and because I don’t do too well in the friend department, he’s become my de facto Best Friend. It only takes the smallest gesture to let him know I’ve got this handled. This isn’t the first time, and it won’t be the last time I’ll have to deal with James and his kind.

“You’ve always been terrible with your stick,” I tell James. “So you have until tomorrow afternoon to send in your concerns.”

James crosses his arms over his chest and flexes as if that’s going to make a difference. “I could give you a demonstration if you really want to get to know my stick.”

“Try to make it out of the bench first,” I shoot back, deadpan.

That shuts him up.

Behind me, someone chokes on a laugh. I glance at Jae from over my shoulder, and his lanky frame is leaning against his locker. He sends me a grin and a thumbs up. “I need socks? The closet has run out of my size. Please and thank you.”

I make a note of it. “Got it. Anything else? ”

I turn toward the froshbites at the other end of the room. I sort of just threw them all into one corner for now. Besides, tradition is a graduating senior passes on his locker to the incoming sophserves, so it’s not like they’re looking at getting too comfortable where they’re at.

Dowoon, the freshman goaltender, keeps glancing at me but before I can acknowledge him, his gaze flits back down to the floor. He’s new to the team, but the coach already wants him playing as soon as possible. Not that my opinion has any bearing, but I agree. Dowoon is good. One of the best tryouts I’ve ever seen for the club.

After the fourth miss, I patiently wait for him to look back up. When I catch his gaze finally, he stutters out almost words and gestures at his mouth.

This is fine. I get him. For the longest time, my mouth refused to work like a normal functioning vocal organ and it took a forever and then some before I was speaking out loud to other human beings. Most days I still can’t be bothered to actually speak, especially to people I don’t know or haven’t been acquainted with long enough. So this? Dowoon having to rehearse his speech in his head before giving it out? I understand completely.

“Mouthguard,” he says eventually, pointing inside his mouth. “The ones in the supply closet hurt.”

Because he had just gotten his braces tightened. Right. “Do you have a specific requirement?”

He picks up a catalog from inside his locker and shows me what he needs. “Like this?”

I take note of that and move on to the rest of the team without further incident. Other than the first years being scared of me—what’s new?—the rest of the team have seemed to have gotten used to me being me. They’ve stopped waiting for me to smile back at them or make eye contact unless absolutely necessary or speak more than the minimum number of words required to communicate.

But then, of course, there are always the special mentions. The good kind, not the ones like James Hong and his ilk.

Matthew Kim is one of them. Big Matthew, we like to call him. For obvious reasons. He’s already halfway out of his gear and easing onto the bench in just his base layers. “Sunshine.”

I don’t react to the nickname anymore. It’s Jae’s doing, baptising me with my very own official nickname at my initiation last year. Because, in his words, I’m such a fucking ray of sunshine. There’s no point in fighting it anyway, not that I want to. It’s difficult enough not feeling so isolated on a regular basis, being called Sunshine, as ridiculous as it may be, eases the loneliness a little bit. “Yes, BM? Your equipment is always in perfect condition, what do you need?”

“Thank you, I take very good care of my equipment. But, actually, I do need laces.”

“The usual?”

“Yes, please. And thank you.”

I don’t look up from my clipboard. “Anyone else?”

“I got an ouchie,” Younghyun says, leaning into my field of vision and angling his shoulder toward me. Needy little shit. He’s lucky I love him. Not that he’ll ever find out any time soon.

“And…I’m supposed to offer to kiss it better?’

Younghyun’s lips widen into those close-lipped smiles of his. “I need an appointment at the clinic? Shoulder hurts.”

From an old injury. Softly, I answer, “I got you. I’ll message you your appointment details when I get them.”

“You’re playing favourites, Sunshine,” Jae says from his side of the lockers. He clutches his chest in mock hurt. “How could you?”

“Me? Never.”

But—and I’m not saying I am—if I were to hypothetically play favourites, it will be a single-elimination tournament, divided into four. The winner of each section advances into a round robin to compete for the championship. Although, there is no real prize to claiming the be the winner of being my favourite. Not like it means much. There isn’t even a trophy or a ribbon or a plaque to commemorate the victory.

All they get is me, and that’s nothing to brag bout.

When I’m certain I’ve gone through all the players but one, I blow my whistle one more time before I make my leave. After they quiet down, I turn toward the repeat offenders. “Unless you’re feeling like doing extra drills, you better pick up after yourselves and put everything where they belong. I’m talking about the laundry in the hampers, your equipment in your lockers, and your trash in the bin.”

Because I take my job seriously, I give the room a stern gaze to let my words sink in. But, really, it’s not like I don’t know that the only reason the rest of the team submits to my authority is because I’ve got backup in the form of the starting regulars: Wonpil, Jae, Matthew, and Younghyun.

Once I’ve made my point, I leave them to their business so I can attend to mine. But before I leave, I make one last stop at the locker at the centre of the back wall. The occupant must know what I’m up to, because as soon as I’m next to him, he’s already turned to me.

“Captain? I assume your stick is in perfect working order.”

You would think he’ll have gotten over the incident by now, after all the thing between us was nearly a year ago, on the night of my initiation to the hockey team, but no. Sungjin’s usual easy demeanour shifts the slightest bit into discomfort and the awkwardness is back.

“My stick is fine,” he answers. “I can get my own gloves.”

“That’s my job. I can do that for you.”

He seems to turn this over in his head for a moment, but relents. He tells me exactly what he needs and I note that down, too. “You okay?” he asks, so quietly no one else can have heard it but me.

My response is the smallest quirk of a brow. “Is that all you need?”

“Yeah.”

“Sure?” Because if the hockey team has a problem, it’s my job to solve it.

“I’m sure. Thanks for your hard work.”

Inside, I’m laughing. On the outside, I’m really just pokerfaced and looking like I hate this job when that’s the furthest from the truth. Without saying goodbye, I walk out of the lockers and into the office down the hall. Coach Yubin and Coach Taec are discussing the rest of the year, and they both acknowledge me when I enter.

“You need anything, Coach?”

“I’ll send you an email,” Coach Taec says, “Thanks for today.”

I nod. To Coach Yubin’s curious expression, I say, “Are you worried a bunch of hockey players running around naked is going to offend my delicate faculties?”

Coach Yubin tilts her head. “There is nothing delicate about you.”

Isn’t that the truth.

I run into Sungjin on my way out of the rink, but as usual our greeting is cold and formal. Or anyway, that’s how it appears from my end. On his end, he’s Captain Sungjin, all the good in Good Guy. We stand in the narrow corridor for a full moment, neither of us speaking or making a move. I raise my eyes and catch his gaze.

Regret plays no part here.

I don’t regret Sungjin. So it’s not regret exactly that’s the issue here. Perhaps the real issue here isn’t that It happened and we agreed to pretend It never happened. The problem here is that we both know there’s no use pretending.

Because if we’re being frank, it’s not awkwardness I feel every time I look Sungjin in the eye. It’s want. White hot want. I still want him, and I know he still wants me, but there’s this line he’s drawn between us. A line he refuses to cross ever since The Incident. A line I intend to go over even if I know nothing awaits us at the end of all this.

And right now, standing face to face, this very much feels like Sungjin and I are on centre ice waiting for the referee to drop the puck.


	2. Chapter 2

For a long moment, Sungjin and I stand in this dimly lit corridor, face to face and refusing to make eye contact. Based on his body language, I can tell he needs me for official business but, as always, there’s something getting in the way of us just functioning like mature almost adults. This fragile 'let's never discuss the thing that happened between us and whatever this is that keeps happening between us’ agreement with Sungjin somehow manages to hold together throughout the past couple of months, but there are moments like this when it feels like the last string holding it together is about to snap.

Maybe if we saw each other less, this would be easier, but not only do we have to be in each other’s business for training two to three mornings a week, I also check in with them almost every weekend at the hockey house where most of the team resides. Furthermore, Sungjin is team captain. Keeping the team’s problems to a minimum means keeping in touch with the team captain.

And lusting over the hockey team captain _sucks_.

“Is there anything you need, Captain?” I ask. Because as much as I enjoy torturing myself like this, I have class to attend and work to get done. It’s barely the first week in, but I already feel myself sinking into a bottomless pit of readings and papers and quizzes and labs, and this is the year I need to get some hold of my life because there are decisions that need to be made and a future that needs preparing for.

“Please don’t call me that.”

I’m never sure what to make of the tone of his voice when he says that. Of course, I call him captain. Saying his name brings me back to a certain moment I’m still pretending never happened. “Did you need anything?”

I hear myself that time, and while I never intend to sound to impatient or dismissive when it comes to the team, that’s just how my voice carries. I’ve stopped apologising for it. Especially when it proves useful in keeping people at arm’s length.

“You, actually.”

_Oh, don’t say it like that_.

_Unless you mean it like that._

Unfortunately, of fortunately depending on your point of view, he never does.

“How can I help you?” I know what this is about, but I ask anyway. Every second of torture reminds me to be careful about who I hook up with next. Every unbearable minute of having to look at his face knowing this is as close as I’ll ever get reminds me how I suck at moving on.

“Scholarship stuff.”

“You still haven’t given me your health forms” Him and Younghyun and a few others, but Younghyun…is Younghyun and I will deal with him at a later date. “And your parents tax forms.”

“Still waiting for them to send it to me. I’m picking up my health forms from the infirmary later this morning. I can get them to you before your last class?”

What I don’t understand is how it is even possible that we are alone in this long stretch of corridor on the way out of the lockers. Where are the rest of the team? Sungjin can’t always be the the last one out of the building, and I can’t keep running into him like this. Not when I can’t decide if I want to slap him with the business end of a hockey stick or jump him.

“Tomorrow is fine, I can complete all your requirements tomorrow. Anyway, the deadline isn’t until next week. You have some time.” He’s lucky the department is a little lenient when it comes to deadlines. And that the department auntie has a crush on him. But then again, who isn’t secretly, lowkey crushing on Park Sungjin? “I already filled out your application forms, you just need to sign them.”

“Thanks, June.”

The way Sungjin says my name is weird. It’s one syllable, but he gives that J a dark flutter while the rest of the word flows smoothly from his lips. He calls me _Sunshine_ like the rest of the guys on the team do, but only when we’re in public. Never like this when it’s just the two of us. And he can’t possibly mean to do that platonically because there is nothing platonic about the way his eyes are on me, gazing at me from just beneath his fringe.

“It my job,” I remind him. It’s probably not my job to make sure he keeps his scholarship, but he already has too much on his hands, what with training, the captainship, the coming playoffs, being a whole engineering student and maintaining his GPA, and…

…and Sungjin looks out for everyone, who looks out for Sungjin?

“It’s really not.” He chuckles on an exhale. But instead of light, like I think he intends it to be, it’s dark and low. He hikes his backpack higher on his shoulder. “You off to class?”

I hug my Biochemistry textbook closer to my chest as if that’s a good enough shield between us. It’s a monster of a textbook and it’s heavy as fuck, but in the end it will do nothing but succumb to Park Sungjin and his charms. Directed at me or not, intentional or not, my resolve weakens just a little bit. But what am I so resolved for again?

“Yeah. I have Biochem all morning.” That reminds me. “You also need to send me your class schedule. You haven’t yet.” I haven’t gotten half the team’s schedules yet, but I have the rest of the week to deal with stubborn players who think I have to keep chasing after them just to remind them of their responsibilities to the team.

Sungjin turns away, red rising up the arches of his cheeks. This move gives me a view of his side profile—is long lashes, his perfect nose, and surprising sharpness of his jaw. “Right. I’ll send it to you. I’ll do it right now. And if there’s anyone else who hasn’t sent in theirs, send me a list and I’ll make them run drills until they get you everything you need.”

“You’re gonna get me drunk on power, you should know better than to spoil me.” I want to take it back, but it’s not like there’s an undo button for a real life conversation. There’s no rewind and redo.

The corner of his mouth lifts into a smirk as he taps away on his phone. “I’ve done no such thing. And if you think I have, you should know better than say it like that. Because now I just want to prove you wrong.”

If only he meant to say that as though from hereon he’ll start ignoring me just to throw people off the conclusion that he is favouring me, but I know Sungjin. I know enough to know that what he means is that if I think this is him favouring me, then he’s more than willing to show me what it does mean to be his favourite. And that is dangerous territory.

Because as far as I know, whatever it is that’s happening between us is decidedly Not A Thing.

A part of me wants to continue pushing him into giving me what I want, and what I want is a way to get him out of my system. At the rate we’re going, I’m going to spontaneously combust one of these days, and while vanishing without a trace may seem like a good idea, I don’t want to go in a fit of sexual frustration.

Sungjin looks up, and I look down at my phone as it lights up with a notification that I’ve just received his class schedule. I open it up just to keep busy, just to prolong this moment a little longer. I don’t even care if I have class in fifteen minutes, Professor Shim never arrives on time, and besides it’s a lab class. I can sneak in and say I got held up in the stock room or the supply closet.

I scan through Sungjin’s classes, noting the days we can schedule afternoon practice and which professors I need to deal with for special exams in case of scheduling conflicts. I don’t even make it through the whole timetable because Sungjin has class in fifteen minutes as well.

“You’re late for your Thermodynamics class.”

I may not care about my own academic standing, but that doesn’t mean I don’t care about his.

Shoot me.

Sungjin checks his watch. “Not yet. I have fifteen minutes.”

I turn on my heel and head for the exit. For a second, I wasn’t sure if he was going to follow me, but after a moment I hear his footsteps coming right behind me. That’s good. Not that there’s any other reason he might want to stay behind. At least none that I can think of at the moment. For the captain of the hockey team, Sungjin can be comically late if left to his own devices. He barely made it to his tryouts back in freshman year—I remember because he ran right into me, asking me for directions how to make it to the ice from the stands. He’s lucky I just walked Younghyun and Jae to the benches, and that he had caught me off guard enough not to freak out because I could just as easily have ignored him like everyone else. In any case, he wasn’t so off put by my resting bitch face and was patient enough to let me compose the words in my head before pointing to the direction of the benches.

The Engineeringbuilding is on the way to the Natural Science building—my home base for the rest of my stay here. I can drop him off. Sort of. Kind of. Unless we take another route and we end up passing by my building first. The campus landscape is one of the main draws of the university. With wide, sprawling lawns, stone courtyards, and old red brick buildings, it really is a beautiful place. I’m sure if I were more of a morning person I’ll appreciate the way the sunlight touches the edges of the buildings and chases away the shadows from the night before, but all I really want now is to curl up back in bed and wait for the day to be over. But, no. Of course, I have an 8:30am class. Of course, I just happen to have 6:00am hockey practice, too.

I really need to talk to Coach Taec and Coach Yubin about this.

Sungjin walks alongside me, looking like every bit the National Crush that he is. Who isn’t crushing over him? It’s still a mystery more people aren’t. Besides the obvious that he’s effortlessly handsome, he’s also the kind of guy who brings a sense of lightness and ease into a room and a conversation. You’re never a burden to him, and he’s always willing to give you a helping hand. Whatever you need, Sungjin will come running to you the moment you call his name.

And that is exactly why I step away from his space because no matter what people say, everyone fits into a nice box, color-coded for you convenience, and Sungjin and I belong to as far away boxes as possible. Here he is, walking through the university avenue in his grey hoodie and his favourite black cap and his sneakers, while here I am in all black, blue hair, and heavy boots.

“So is this how it’s going to be?” he asks, entering my space yet again.

I don’t answer him. I don’t have to.

“Because I thought, after the summer, we’re…I don’t know. Not…this.”

I don’t even know what he means by _this, _and I respond with a sidelong glance. Just because we managed to make decent conversation over the summer, it doesn’t mean we’re friends. Not the way I’m friends with some members of the team. Definitely not the way I’m friends with Younghyun.

Speaking of Younghyun. I pull out my phone and send him a quick message telling him he had better be awake and on the way to the library to get the textbooks I reserved for him—that he can sleep in the library until his next class if he wants to as long as he doesn’t forfeit his book reservations.

“Because I want more than this.” He says this firmly, with more conviction than anything he has said to the team this morning. Or ever.

I keep walking. It’s all I can do. This early, there’s not much interference from the student body. Most of them are not caffeinated enough to bother with us, and I can only hope for a random stoppage for Sungjin so I can escape this conversation. Because even though I want to jump his bones, like 24/7, it’s good to be reminded why that is a bad, bad, _bad_ idea.

Sungjin is physically, viscerally, and emotionally incapable of doing casual, and casual is all I do.

Isn’t he dating this girl from Interior Design? Or is it Architecture? I can’t remember for sure. All I know is he went out on a couple of dates with this girl who absolutely hates me, or at the very least has little regard for me, what with the way she can’t help but frown at my presence. My reputation precedes me, and when you look the way I do and have access to the boys in their lockers and their dorms, all sorts of things get said about you. A lot of the girls and the girlfriends and the dates and whatever don’t know what to do with me. And when you don’t know what to do with something or someone, it’s just easier to not like them.

“There is no this,” I mutter darkly, more to myself than to him.

Sungjin steps into my space again, and I get a whiff of his minty shampoo and his minty soap, and the faint scent of his cologne, so faint it makes you want to step closer in chase of that warm, citrusy scent.

Fuck, he smells like summer.

There really is no reason for him to smell so good.

“I want there to be a _This,_” he says, overtaking me and halting me in my steps. “Because I’m serious about this. About you. I want to go out with you.”

I fake right and side-step to the left and walk right past him. I can’t deal with this right now. Or ever. Especially not this early in the morning, I haven’t slept and I need coffee, and I have a class to get to. Also I need to come up with a plan, or my parents are going to write one up for me.

“I can’t have this conversation right now,” I tell him. Or I tell the air and the void in front of me as Sungjin catches up with my increased walking pace.

“But we are having this conversation? Not now, but later? Time, I can give you. Space, too. But I want to have this conversation with you.”

I cut through the Arts and Letters building and take a shortcut between the gardens and make it out to the winding pathway that opened into the wide lawn in front of Natural Sciences building. “There is no conversation to be had.”

“Then why won’t you just go out with me? Because you don’t date the team?”

That…is not even a thing. And he should know better, but someone mentioned it—some senior who already graduated and moved on, who I rejected on account of I didn’t even like him and he smelled funny—and it just stuck. It will take more effort than what is currently at my disposal to even refute that misconception, and it works for me anyway. Not that it’s stopped other people from speculating who in the team I’ve slept with but…that’s besides the point.

I turn to him as soon as I take one step up my building. “Look, you know why I don’t.”

“Because of what happened last initiation?”

“Because what happened last initiation is all that can happen between us. I know what you want, and I don’t want the same thing.”

Again with that smirk. “But you do want me?”

Fuck this.

I turn away and walk up the stairs with determined steps. Because that smile? Blindingly hot.

This must be what it feels like to be slammed into the boards.


	3. Chapter 3

I don’t give a fuck about my reputation.

But sometimes, just sometimes, it sucks when you walk down the halls to get to your next class and it’s impossible to escape the truth that some people are just going to keep talking smack about you because of your association with the hockey team, and then some. I can pinpoint the exact moment the whispers shifted from being called an emo weirdo to all the other names girls get called when they think you’re playing the field.

As soon as I put in my application for my would be managerial responsibilities, the first thing I was made to do was collect a big box of condoms from the health centre to be delivered to the hockey house. At the time, I was shadowing the guy who was the manager before me and didn’t think anything was amiss with his instructions. After all, it was the responsible and sensible thing to do, and I took it as part of the turnover of his duties. Little did I know, the seniors on the team decided I was to be their new target of what to them was a harmless prank, and for whatever else girls are targeted for.

Anyway, the short version is that on that same afternoon, just as I was heading to the hockey house to get my delivery done, I came across one of the seniors on the team who tripped me—or pushed me, I don’t even know—and of course, _of course_, a whole box of condoms scattered in my fall. If anything, it was embarrassing. I could get over it, and people would forget about it. Or so I believed. Even when I came to discover that it had all been a prank from the start, I shook it off. I made it a real thing on the list of duties. I owned up to it, and I didn’t let it bother me. But it didn’t end there. Because the guy I was replacing was an outgoing senior that semester, I’d been invited to come along to the opening game night tradition of the coaches taking us out to dinner. Later that same night, I would come to learn from Younghyun that there had been a running bet on who gets to take me home after. Of how long it would take before someone did.

Not one of them ever did win that poll. But it didn’t matter, because as far as my reputation is concerned, it was shot dead on arrival anyway. Regardless of the truth, the guys were hardly saints but no one was calling them derogatory names and no one was starting betting polls on them. It was just me who had to take the blunt end of everyone else’s merciless judgment.

Quitting was not an option. I refused to quit because I hated the idea that these guys thought they had that power over me. I wasn’t afraid of them. If anything, they should have realized that they should have been afraid of me. Ever since that day, I made sure they got the worst rooming arrangements, that their jockstraps were always just a little too uncomfortable, their skate blades never get sharpened, and that their meal stubs would somehow get a little too lost inside the team packets. It didn’t hurt the team. These guys hardly played anyway, and frankly I couldn’t care less.

But I do wish people will stop talking about me and just leave me alone. It’s all I ever want anyway. Unfortunately, this is not the universe where I get what I want.

Speaking of people who can’t leave me alone, my phone buzzes relentlessly inside my jacket pocket. It’s just Younghyun, who else will it be? I wait until I’m all the way inside my classroom and have settled into my lab station before scrolling through Younghyun’s seemingly endless messages. Mostly it’s my name sent at least eight times in a row in between him asking where we’re meeting for lunch or if I’m dropping by the library or the hockey house tonight.

“I saved you a seat,” says the guy who comes in after me and takes the lab stool next to me. Leo is an odd sort of goof who I don’t mind having in my space. We took the same Logic elective last semester and had been paired up for the exercises and the group work. And if for that alone, I won’t mind pairing up with him for this class as well but he’s also a ghost at my favourite haunt, a small hole in the wall speakeasy called Moonrise, so he’s good in my book.

But no, we’re not friends on purpose but at the same time it’s good to not have to be required to make a new one on such short notice.

While mulling over my reply to Younghyun’s messages, I nod to acknowledge Leo. Every time we meet like this, he gives me a look that lasts about five seconds before he decides on his next plan of action. Today it seems, he’s going for silence and I wonder if there’s something on my face that indicates silence is what I’d prefer. Because given Sungjin’s behavior this morning, I’ll gladly take Leo telling me that story again about that one time he spent the night on one of the benches at the quad because of a dare.

My phone starts filling up with notifications from the group chat and I slide it face down on the table. Even then it continues lighting up like a Christmas tree, and at this rate I’m gonna need to plug it in to charge before my battery is drained completely. I don’t even want to know what this is about. The last message I saw was Matthew sending in some meme, and for sure it’ll be followed by Jae doing the same thing. On and on with Wonpil and the other freshmen—all of them on their phones instead of class.

“You can mute that thread you know,” Leo says, pulling out his lab manual and setting it up on the countertop.

I don’t answer that because what’s the point? I just do as he does and start skimming over today’s exercise. It’s not like I can mute the hockey team, at least not during the day. While I have discussed with them, in a succinct email I might add, all about boundaries and what we must expect of each other, these things take time before they take root inside a guy’s brain. The freshmen, especially.

When I don’t spy the faint glow of my screen from the exposed sides of my phone for a full minute, I dare to lift the screen. The messages have stopped coming. All because of one message. A one-liner from the team captain.

“Stop flooding this chat,” reads the message. “This is for official hockey business only.”

That’s right. He’s getting these messages, too. At least I can count on him to keep the boys from getting too unruly. Which is always.

Someone takes the seat in front of us. It had been vacant last session, but there are always those who never come to the first day. This dude seems like one of them. I keep my head down and hope he walks away. We haven’t had to finalise our groups yet, and if this is going to happen by table then I hope my face is enough to get him the fuck out of this one.

“So what I miss last session?” he asks. All I can see from my vantage point is a denim jacket and smooth hands.

I continue reading through the first couple of pages of the lab manual. Something about kinetics. Energy. The laws of Physics. There’s going to be more math than I am capable of, and I’m dreading the rest of the semester already.

“We’re doing pairs so you should probably move a table up,” Leo answers. That is unconfirmed, but Dude doesn’t know that.

Dude shifts in his seat to look behind him. He probably doesn’t like what he sees because almost immediately he says, “You move a table up. Hey, Blue.”

I guess he means me?

“You wanna pair up with me instead of this loser?”

I don’t even bother dignifying that with a response or even an acknowledgment.

Next to me, Leo is chuckling out loud, thoroughly amused. Like me, he continues flipping through his workbook and starts twirling a pencil between his fingers.

“Come on,” Dude says, using a voice I know all too well. It’s the kind of voice guys use when they’re softening you up. The kind they use to make you think you’re the only one in the world they see. Lies, all of it. A cute attempt, but not even a good one. “You know you’d rather pair up with me that this guy. Hey, come on. Let me see those pretty eyes.”

Leo snorts and sighs; taps the eraser end of his pencil on the pages of the worksheet.

“Hey, man. You got a problem?”

Before all this escalates, I slowly raise my deadest eyes at him.

Dude scoffs, but he’s already picking up his bag from the seat next to him. “You could be really hot underneath all that hostility,” he says as he hops off the stool. He sends me one last murderous glance before taking the empty seat on the next table.

Finally, the lab instructor walks in and class begins.

  
I get out of Physics lab around three in the afternoon and run into Matthew as he’s leaving his Microbiology lecture class. Leo makes his disappearing act by then, vanishing into the crowd of students filing in and out of classrooms. No goodbyes necessary. I’ll catch Leo at Moonrise over the weekend.

“Why didn’t we take Microbiology together?” Matthew slides to my right and walks with me down the halls.

I’m on my way to the Natural Science library two floors above but, with the lightest of touches, Matthew steers me away from the stairs going up and toward the ones going down. We didn’t take Microbiology together because I already took the class last semester because I had an extra opening and wanted to avoid taking my earlier Physics class with the Math and Chemistry classes I was taking the previous semester. Joke’s on me because I’m still taking a Physics class with a Biochemistry class, with a bonus Animal Physiology class and then some. At least I’m taking Physiology and Molecular Biology with Matthew. Although, I’m not sure yet how that benefits me.

But walking with Big Matthew? Down this busy hallway? Does wonders. People are actually parting like the Red Sea and I can walk without anyone bumping into me like they didn’t see me there, as though I’m a ghost with the misfortune of still having fleshy bits. Sometimes I swear they do it on purpose. This, though…this feels like something I shouldn’t get used to.

It’s one thing that Matthew is tall, but when we say he’s big we also mean it in terms of lean muscle mass and presence. He radiates this excitable energy, he’s easy to smile, and he’s friendly. Like a big puppy who doesn’t understand his size. That’s the only way to describe him.

“Do you want to get a coffee at The Beach House?”

The Beach House is a cart at the quad, it’s Matthew’s favourite for the simple reason it’s called The Beach House, and he loves beaches and beach houses. To be fair, the pizza bread and the coffee can be considered more than decent when you need a quick fix. My stomach grumbles, reminding me I haven’t had lunch yet. I don’t really have to answer because neither of us have class for another two hours, and it’s a lab class we’re both taking together.

When we get to the quad, Jae is already there with Sammy who’s our home-game DJ, and the other third to Jae’s vlogging team. Without acknowledging me—they do exchange fist bumps with Matthew—they make space for us on the stone table they’ve occupied and I dump my things there before following after Matthew to get some food in me. I amble behind him, dragging my feet not looking forward to having to talk to the girl behind the register to make my purchases. It’s not their fault, but I also like to think I can’t always be blamed for being this way. But Matthew takes care of that and orders my usual for me. Pays for it even. Because he’s like that.

“Don’t even argue,” he says, handing me my iced Americano and my pizza bread. “Just take it. Consider it my prepaid favour for tonight’s class.”

I don’t have a good enough argument against that, so I just lead the way back to the stone tables. While I prefer being alone, there’s something less alienating about hanging out with Jae, Sammy, and Matthew. They don’t bother me at all, and they have enough conversation between them not to require my active participation. With Younghyun, though we have plenty of quiet time, I can’t help but fuss over him because he is A Child who needs attention. With these guys, all I have to do is sit here, pick out the pineapples on my pizza bread and hope Matthew doesn’t notice me dropping them into his sandwich when he’s not looking.

My trip to the library just has to wait. It’s not really that important anyway—just the usual hiding out while reviewing the syllabus for the week’s classes, and after that completing the team’s class schedule on a carefully constructed, colour-coded table. There’s a longer list on my phone of tasks I need to get done, but that can wait until tonight. It’s not like I’m doing anything or going anywhere.

But sitting here like this, suddenly I’m hit with a weird sense of nostalgia for a thing that hasn’t even happened yet. I don’t know why I’m suddenly feeling sad for no real reason. Usually, I have better control over these waves of loneliness, and they’ve definitely never hit me like this in the company of these guys, but here we are.

I know I spent all my life trying to be invisible, but just once I find myself wondering what it’s like to be seen.

“Hey, Captain!”

I keep my head down when Jae calls out for Sungjin. This isn’t new. The quad is right between the major buildings and it’s where the food and coffee carts are. Unless they’re completely absorbed and lost all semblance of a life, almost everyone passes through here at one point or another in their day. In my head, I can’t stop hearing the teasing in Sungjin’s voice and the dark glint in his eyes.

“But you do want me?” Sungjin had said.

I haven’t had time to think about him, what with the day I’ve had, and I hoped I wouldn’t have to run into him until tomorrow but here we are.

“Sunshine, hey. I thought you might be here,” Sungjin says once he’s within hearing shot of the table. I can even hear him smiling that usual smile he always has on his face. “I have what you asked. Just like you said. What isn’t there yet, I’ll get to you this week.”

“Always a stellar example of punctuality,” Jae teases. And Jae is the only one who can tease Sungjin and live to tell the tale. He takes this honour seriously and lords it over everyone else at every opportunity he can get.

Because Sungjin, bless him, is Bad At Deadlines. He’s always a buzzer beater and it’s not cute because I’m the one who ends up stressing over him. Because I, too, am proving a point—that is, that I play no favourites—I acknowledge Sungjin with a glance. To which he responds by setting the folder gently on the table, right in front of me.

It only lasts a split-second, but I look up just as Sungjin looks down and our eyes meet. The morning’s conversation comes back full force, and everything I’ve been avoiding all day inundates my senses before my mind goes blank. As Sungjin draws away, the corner of his lips quirks just the slightest and in his eyes is a _knowing_ as though he can read my mind.

“I need to get to class,” Sungjin says, and his usual captain face is back as though nothing just happened between us in that fraction of a moment. “I’ll see you guys back at the house.”

And then he’s gone, leaving a trail of electricity in his wake.


	4. Chapter 4

My class runs late on Friday nights, but sometimes that’s a good thing because I get to the Hockey House after 9 and it’s mostly empty save for the boys who haven’t gotten back from eating out or haven’t left to go to some party or whatever yet. Carrying my usual supplies, I let myself in and start on my First Week duties.

In the common room is a dry erase board and cork board built into the wall where the team’s schedules, the university schedules, and game schedules are all posted. And then some. Ever since that major prank on me, I’ve made it my mission to remind everyone of the consequences of their actions and so every so often I’ll dump a box of condoms into the small plastic basket I’ve attached to the lower left corner. Responsible? Check. Sensible? Check. Petty and Vengeful? Check and check. After that, I pull up the details on my phone to update the training schedules and game schedules. Everything is available online and on our servers, but it helps to have a physical reminder of life happening with or without your direct participation.

It’s that feeling of existential dread multiplied and magnified.

“Oh, you’re here,” Younghyun says, walking out of the kitchen and into the common room. “Why didn’t you tell me you’re coming over?”

I don’t even answer that because he knows that I know that he knows that it’s not like I have to report my every move to him. Not even the ‘because friends are concerned about friends’ excuse works in this scenario. But also because Younghyun knows there’s nowhere else I’ll be on a Friday night. Despite the rumours about me, my life is pretty much clockwork. As is his.

“I ate all the kimbap,” he says, walking up behind me to watch what I’m doing. “If I knew you were coming I’d have saved you one.”

I reach for a dry erase marker, uncap it and poise the tip at the board. “One roll or, like, one piece?”

“I ate them all so you’ll never know.”

Younghyun and I met the summer before freshman year. It was for that introductory culture class for international students or those students who had spent their secondary education in another country. Likewise, Jae and Matthew met through that class, likewise Sammy and whoever else is in the little ragtag group they formed outside hockey. On the first day I met Younghyun, he looked about as testy and cold as I did so everyone pretty much left us alone. I can’t remember exactly when it was that the facade melted, but I’m pretty sure it had something to do with lunch. Because at some point we were just lunching together and then Younghyun was talking about one thing or another, and then hockey came into the discussion and the rest, as they say, was history.

So now we look out for each other.

Because we’re both alone and so far away from our families.

And when you’re an only child like he is and like I am, loneliness always finds you.

“We should have taken Philo together,” he whines, “it’s so boring?”

I roll my eyes and copy the University events and holidays onto the board. “I told you to take it with me last sem, but did you listen? You never listen to me.”

“You never listen to me,” he shoots back, only half-laughing. “It’s the only class we can take together. Or, no, wait, I think we can take an elective together next semester?”

“Why are you planning the next semester already? This one has barely begun.”

Being in totally different majors on opposite sides of campus does not sit well with the Clingy Kang Younghyun. He’s a needy lil shit who requires constant care and attention, and given that I’m not the one to provide care and attention in a language he naturally speaks, it’s always a fun time finding an in between. Not that I don’t want to, or that I haven’t made the effort. Because The Universe out there knows that while I promise I don’t play favourites, Younghyun comes as close as there is to First Place of people whom I wish happiness for.

“Because this year’s coming to an end, and the next one’s the last one?”

I can’t shake off the sadness and worry in his voice. So I go for something like “Are you drunk right now?”

“I may have had a a couple of pre-shots before we head over to Papa Tuan’s,” he says. “It just hit me, you know? We used to think we had time, but now we’re running out of time? And people keep asking me what my plans are? Fuck, I don’t know? I don’t even know. Do you know?”

My attention is on the board, but I can’t really think about or even see what I’m supposed to be doing because this is the beginning of a difficult conversation and I don’t want to look at him while I do this. I can’t just yet. I know I have to. But I can’t.

“Nope.”

Younghyun has had professionals scouting him for the last two years, and instead of helping his game it’s only pressuring him further. The burden is so heavy on him, but there’s only so much I can do to ease the weight of his world. I can’t do anything because it’s not my place. It’s his life. He’s the one who has to live with the decisions he makes.

“Are you taking the test?”

I have decided not to think about The Test even though the deadline for applications is fast approaching. My program adviser says I could test out of my major and shift into the straight medical program if I decide to, but ultimately I don’t know what I want. Doing so only seems to reinforce the inevitable. My parents want me to—have wanted me to—go into the straight program from the start but I “rebelled". As you do. But is this what I want? “I don’t know yet. I have more chances, it’s not like this is a once in a lifetime opportunity.”

“But you’ll let me know?”

The way he says it breaks me because it’s just so sad? “As if I’m ever getting rid of you,” I shoot back, glancing at him from over my shoulder.

Younghyun just smiles, and it’s the kind that’s annoying but also the kind that’s genuine. I never know what to do with affection so I just roll my eyes and turn back to my duties. I’m not even halfway into the headings when I hear Wonpil and Dowoon rushing down the stairs.

“Alright,” Wonpil says, straightening his hockey shirt over his jeans. “I’m ready. Let’s get this party started.”

“Aren’t we gonna get carded?” Dowoon asks, blinking up at Wonpil and Younghyun.

Poor kid.

“It’ll be fine,” Younghyun assures him. Papa Tuan’s conveniently looks the other way when it comes these things. The place used to be some hole in the wall barbecue grill place because it became Not A Sports Bar But It’s Where The Hockey Boys Go Anyway. Also there’s a karaoke place upstairs and that’s always a good time when the mood is right.

“Are you coming, Sunshine?” Matthew comes down the steps looking too good in his hockey shirt and jeans. The comparison is inevitable because, okay, Matthew Kim is hot.He has those shoulders and those arms. And, yes, those abs. I’ve seen them all. I can admit to that much and feel no guilt or shame.

“Not in the mood to people.”

Matthew just nods, and the rest of them accept this answer. When I was younger, I was always being shoved out the door to join parties and get-togethers, mostly against my will. In the business of being a Proper Teenager, the more parties you went to and the more people you know, the more you were doing it right. Which made me, in their eyes, a failure at being human. At some point, I decided my preference for being alone was non-negotiable and took in the names I got called. I was okay being the weird kid if it meant no one bothered me. Until Younghyun and these guys, I never knew that I could just be me and have someone accept it anyway. Wholeheartedly and without wanting to change me. That the way I am is not a failing on my end.

“BM,” I call out just as they’re filing out the door.

“Yes, Shine?”

All four of them stop and turn, of course. Younghyun grins a little too much, I hope he stubs his toe somewhere and that his drinks for tonight are always the wrong temperature. I just shake my head ever so slightly. I hate to do this here in front of the team, but this is the only way I can get Matthew accountable for himself. “Remember our deal last summer?”

The boys make ooh-aah sounds because we’re children and this is the elementary school playground.

Matthew grins sheepishly at me. “I remember.”

Just before this semester started, we went over class requirements and registration together because we’re in the same major. His grades aren’t terrible, but they aren’t great either. At most, Matthew is average on the GPA scale. If he wants to keep playing, he needs to maintain that. If he wants more in Life In General, he has to step up.

I tap at the board and he comes over, then I hand him a permanent marker. “Over there, you know what to do.”

Matthew sighs, and on the top most corner of the whiteboard, just where I can’t reach, he writes down:

This semester I will:

  1. Not get benched
  2. Get my grades up

“And?” I prompt.

Matthew laughs to himself as he adds the third part of our agreement. My mission this semester to keep his grades above average, not just to keep him on the team but to make sure he still has a future should he decide he wants one other than hockey. While there are those just like Younghyun who can go pro, not everyone will have that chance.At least not as easily. Not in the way it will be given to Younghyun on a silver platter. Matthew has a different fight in him—one that I recognize because his parents are doctors. As are mine. That means we’re obligated to consider going into medical school whether or not this is what we really want to do with our lives. Matthew on the hockey team? His dad just thinks it’s a hobby, just another item on his CV. Until Matthew decides, he has to be able to keep his options.

In exchange for my generous services, he also promises to:

  1. Do everything Sunshine says.

Then he signs his name on all three items just like Jae said he should. Because Jae is a Political Science major with pre-law leanings. Jae, who is already probably at Papa Tuan’s or with Sammy. Doesn’t matter. He’s a big kid, he can handle himself.

“Thank you,” I tell him, asking for my marker back.

“Aren’t you supposed to sign the thing, too?”

I raise my eyes all the way up to where the agreement is written. I’m not short. Matthew is just tall. Like how Jae is tall but still not as tall as Matthew is. “Let me get a chair,” I mutter.

“I’ll give you a boost,” Matthew suggests instead.

I know he wrote our agreement all the way up there on purpose, and I glare at him from under my fringe. To which he just grins at me like he’s innocent and has no clue what my annoyance is about. With a long suffering sigh, I push myself up on my tiptoes and reach up as far as I can to sign my name.

Matthew, though, does give me a boost. He puts his big hands on my waist and steadies me on my toes, and I scribble my name as fast as I can because I am never going to hear the end of all the short jokes. As if it’s my fault they got growth spurts like trees.

I settle one last chilling scowl at Matthew Kim who backs away with his palms up before hopping out the door in chase of Wonpil and Dowoon. Younghyun lingers behind, smiling like he’s just seen the best thing ever.

“Oh, shut up.”

“I didn’t say anything.” Younghyun clutches his hands over his chest. “If I were to say something, I’d say something like _Oh my god, that’s so cute_ but I didn’t. See? I didn’t say things like _It’s so very convenient BM’s so tall and you’re so short _or things like _I wonder how long that’s been going on _or _I really hope you’re not playing favourites but it doesn’t matter because we all know I will always be your favourite_. You know where to find us if you change your mind. If not tonight then I’ll see you tomorrow for breakfast, _Shine_.”

Younghyun dodges my projectile markers, and they just hit the flat side of the door as it swings closed.

I need better friends.

Also now I need to pick up my markers on the floor but I don’t even feel like doing that because I’m so annoyed. It’s petty, and Younghyun’s teasing is childish at best, absolutely harmless, but it gets to me because…because I don’t know. Because I don’t want the team thinking I am playing favourites? Because even though I don’t care about what other people think, I care about what the team thinks. And knowing that doesn’t help. Being aware of your own mind and its games is not fun.

“Why are all your markers on the floor?”

Sungjin appears by the kitchen door holding a mug of…tea?

Why is Sungjin such an Uncle?

I stare through the glass doors and into the night as though I can telepathically communicate that the hockey team is in fact made up of five year olds. Sungjin just presses forward, bends down to pick up the markers and pushes himself back up, not without groaning like an ancient person arthritic in all the joints and has seen too much of the world.I was wrong. He’s not an Uncle. He’s a Grandpa. He returns my markers into my pencil case which I’ve propped against the sheet of flat metal that acted as a marker an eraser holder at the bottom of the board.

“You should do the Wheel of Chores without them just to assert your authority,” Sungjin suggests, smiling at his own suggestion. “Or I can look the other way and you can assign the boys wherever you want and I’ll just agree that yes, this is all fair and not at all on purpose.”

I smile despite myself.

The chore board is decided according to fate. I’ve attached pictures of the boys who live here on a circular frame and inside it is a smaller circle with an arrowhead pointer. Then we spin the wheel and fill out the chore table right next to it. We usually do this every Sunday night, when at least 80% of the occupants are present, and can attest to the sanctity and the dignity of the assignments. Sungjin is right, though.

I do have the power to do what I want.

But with great power comes great responsibility.

So while I think about how I can get back at Younghyun, I finish writing the game and scrimmage schedules and filling in the class schedules and updating the birthday boards. Sungjin watches next to me, and after a minute has taken it upon himself to dictate the details of what I’m writing so I’m not looking here and then there. He’s standing so close to me, I can feel the warmth of him through his shirt and through my sweater. I hear his voice all the time during practice, and team meetings, and random instances during the day, but his voice at close quarters always gets to me. Unlike his captain voice, his regular Sungjin voice is soft and low and gentle and _kind_.

“So why aren’t you Papa Tuan’s?” I can’t believe I asked that, but the less words we use the more I’ll be tempted to use body language and that’s…that’s not a safe choice.

Sungjin just groans. It’s a sound that’s just so tired and so done with life, it makes me laugh. Again. In spite of me. “Someone will have to come get them, and that someone is me. So I’ll just wait for an SOS while hoping I don’t have to answer an SOS. You’d think they’d overgrow the weekend parties by now.”

“Do you mean to say outgrow?”

“That’s what I said.”

“Right. Anyway, I won’t count on them outgrowing this phase just yet. And think of it this way, you get to have the house to yourself for a couple of hours. You can do whatever you want and no one’s going to bother you. You can walk around naked if you want. Have your own dance party if you want. You can even…”

I don’t get to continue that last thought because my own thoughts take me to a dangerous place indeed.

Sungjin and I are alone.

Together.

For the next four or something hours, probably.

Well, shit.


	5. Chapter 5

I suppose I can leave. If I want to.

But even I can tell I’m dragging out the last set of the schedules I’m writing on the board. At least the quality of my handwriting remains consistent all throughout. Usually by the end, sometimes somewhere in the middle even, I get too tired or too lazy to keep up writing so neatly the bottom rows end up almost illegible. After this I’m out of excuses that don’t sound like excuses. I don’t _need_ an excuse to hang out here. Sometimes I think I spend more time here than in my own dorm room. But with Sungjin here? Just the two of us? I honestly cannot tell if that is a good idea. Because the last time we were alone together?

Yeah. Stuff happens.

After filling out the last of the timetables, I cap my marker and take a step back like a graffiti artist examining my final product. Not bad. It’s _almost_ not crooked.

“I’m gonna go watch this new series,” Sungjin says, a little red in the ears. “The historical one. The one with the lady detective.”

I massage my wrist and shake it out. My entire arm is tired. “Is that the one with the grumpy dude?”

“Yeah, that grumpy guy you like.”

“Who says I like that guy?”

He shrugs. “Wonpil.”

We never could get Sungjin to say Twinkletoes.

“He said you two went to see that movie he was in,” he continues, looking at me as though he could read my mind. “He said you went to see it twice?”

This time I scoff. “I went to see it twice because Toronto wanted to see the movie after I’ve already seen it because Twinkletoes said he wanted to see the movie. I just went along again because I’m not the one paying for anything.”

The movie was one of those romantic comedies with a grumpy main guy who softens in the end—who had always been soft but just was simply socially awkward and introverted and ultimately misunderstood. Anyway, Younghyun has a thing for romantic comedies and, I’m not going to lie, so do I. So we have this sort of unspoken rule about going to see them together because he doesn’t want to go alone—has never liked doing things by himself. Meanwhile, I have no issues dating myself no matter the looks of pity I get from people. Anyway, Younghyun made such a big fuss about finding out I had already seen the movie with Wonpil even after Younghyun had made me promise I would go see the movie with him. It really wasn’t a big deal, and it’s not like we had a fight, but after that I knew for sure the guy really needed to go find a girlfriend. Or a boyfriend. Who knows for sure what he’s into. Or maybe next time, he should just go to the movies with Wonpil instead.

Sungjin takes a sip of his tea. “So…do you want to watch the series with me or what?”

My mouth clamps shut and I narrow my eyes at him. “Why do I feel like this is a trap?”

“I’m just trying to stay awake until all the guys get back home or until someone calls for me to pick them up. Whichever comes first.”

“You’re not their dad. You don’t have to wait up for them. That’s not part of being team captain, you know.”

“Yeah, but it’s part of being their friend.”

In the world we’re living in, it is a rare gem to have someone like Park Sungjin in your life. The news can get scary, and although it’s always been a dangerous world we live in, these days it only feels like we’re coming closer and closer to the edge of anarchy. The campus itself is safe, and the administration has implemented several measures to ensure the protection of the students and its staff, but once you set foot outside the perimeter it’s anyone’s guess what happens to you. Although, recently the crime rate has been impressively low within the neighbouring areas.

Sungjin just worries. He never looks like it because he doesn’t want to make it obvious that he does. But he worries. All the time.

“I guess I can hang out with you a while?” I pick up my stuff and shove them into my backpack. “I’ve been meaning to watch that, too. I guess. I just…”

It’s my attention span. It doesn’t work the same when I have to sit down and watch something. I keep getting distracted or bored. The only time I manage to binge watch anything is when I’m procrastinating, or avoiding people and the outside world, or when someone—Younghyun or my roommate Amber—sits down to watch the thing with me.

Sungjin lifts a brow. “Don’t sound so enthusiastic about spending time with me. I can tell you’re really excited about this prospect.”

I turn away and hide behind my hair so he doesn’t see me smiling. “Because this is a trap. I know it is. My senses for these things are always accurate.”

When he doesn’t answer immediately with something funny or indignant, I push my fringe off my face and check on him. Sungjin is…broody. Like I said something that offended him? No, not offended him. Like I said something that’s making him worry about whether or not he said something wrong.

“I just meant…” I raise my eyes to the ceiling and start all over again. “I just meant that you’re going to want to talk about The Thing and I don’t know if I want that conversation tonight. Like this. I’m not exactly in the correct headspace for that.”

Not that I think I ever will be, but at least I can delay the inevitable for one more night. At least a few more hours because I’ve had a long day, and it’s been a long week, and I just want to curl up in my bed and sleep until Monday.

The thing about athletes is that they are determined to a fault. “If I promise not to talk about The Thing, will you let me walk you home at least?”

I glance at the time on my phone and ignore the messages and selfies from Younghyun. “I don’t have a choice, do I?” I can fight my feelings for him all night, but someone has to be honest here. That someone is me. I may not want to have this conversation, but that doesn’t mean I don’t want to be around him. Like all the time.

This attraction I have for Sungjin?

Yeah, it’s inconvenient.

Very much so.

“You always have a choice,” he says, softly. “If you want to get home by yourself, or wherever else you want to be tonight, just let me know you’re okay.” His brows furrow between his forehead as he contemplates his tea. “Not even that. You don’t owe me that, I get it. But at least some sign of life? I don’t know where this is going. I just…Just please be careful.”

What’s funny is that he’s doing a short roundup of a previous scolding Coach Yubin gave the boys after the incident with the seniors last year. The seniors didn’t get the disciplinary action they deserved from the administration because what’s a little harmless prank on some girl versus the athletes of a sport that puts the University on the news, right?Never mind that it’s probably fucked me up for life, but whatever. The team didn’t get off so easily, because for Coach Yubin, all that was unacceptable. Though the incident’s been kept quiet, it’s a shadow that blankets the team at all times. Coach Yubin, with full cooperation and support from Coach Taec, made the boys sit through an hour long conversation about Being Decent Human Beings and the code of conduct to being on the team. Once in a while, she makes them go to sensitivity seminars offered by the Gender Studies and the Sociology Department.

Good to know they listened. Are listening still. Some of things Sungjin just said are things I’ve called out some of the other boys for. I always just assume my words go through one ear and out the other, but it’s nice to be proven wrong from time to time.

Honestly, did I expect any less from Park Sungjin?

“I can watch a couple of episodes?” While we both can have benefitted from my sounding a little more sure about my own suggestion, Sungjin does light up. I doubt he can truly mask his expressions.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.” I pick up my bag and sling it over one shoulder. “I am 100% certain I want to watch a couple of episodes of the thing with you, Park Sungjin. It’s fine.”

The corner of his lips lift into a small smile. “I won’t even bring up The Thing.”

I lead the way into the lounge and set my backpack down at the foot of the couch. “You have to be specific about this thing we’re not talking about.”

When I say things like this, I question whether or not I should hang out more with Jae. Because there are hidden gems to that guy. Once you get past the first couple of levels, the game you thought you’re playing suddenly shifts, and what you thought was simple and straightforward turns out far more elaborate and complex than what you’re prepared for.

But Jae really isn’t the issue here.

The issue here is Sungjin and being specific.

“I promise I won’t bring up wanting to date you,” he says. And means it.

What he doesn’t say, but is apparent in his demeanour, is that just because we won’t talk about it tonight doesn’t mean his feelings are any different. Or that they’re bound to change any time soon. Or that I can avoid him and this conversation completely.

“I’ll go get my computer.”

I watch Sungjin go up the stairs and I fall into the couch. While he’s upstairs, I shoot a quick message to three different people, summarising my current situation without naming names and other specifics. On a Friday night, I don’t expect anyone to answer immediately, so imagine my surprise when two replies come within a minute of me hitting send. Neither of them are helpful. But I guess I should have known that the minute I decided they are to be the people I will be asking help from.

llama: GET THAT HOCKEY BUTT

Leo: Remember that third time’s the charm.

Incredulous, I toss my phone into my bag and lean back into the soft cushions. Sungjin comes back down and sets up his computer, some speakers, and the mini-projector to flash against the wall where the TV used to be. It’s best not to ask questions sometimes, so everyone else just accepts that some things are better off not spoken of. Anyway, now we have a big empty wall, one of those portable projectors you can connect to your computer or phone, and all the time in the world.

Sungjin flicks the lights off and then settles next to me on the couch, not quite beside me—there’s enough space for Jae or Wonpil to squeeze in if they so choose to. But he’s there, and I’m here, and we’re alone. I’m careful not to lean in too far. I don’t want to get trapped in a memory. The feel of his skin against mine is a craving I struggled to overcome.

Unbidden, I think about what Leo said about the third time.

The first time was on the night of my initiation.

The second time was a moment of weakness last summer. To be fair, it was hot, it was sticky, and I’ve had too much of that convenience store sea salt ice cream. Sungjin was so smiley and happy, it was hard to look away. So I kissed him. And he kissed me back. And then…well…

Stuff happened.

We haven’t talked about it other than the usual pre-sex talk he insists on having. Don’t get me wrong, I appreciate the talk so much, but then he gets into these moods the following morning like he didn’t agree to the same things I did. Once, I asked him if it was regret he was feeling, but he vehemently denied regretting any of the nights we had spent together. So, no. If it’s not regret, what is it?

We’re quiet during the first episode, too engrossed with that’s happening to even bother with the fact that, on some level, this is awkward for us both. Awkward but nice, if such a thing is even possible. Sungjin has this uncanny ability to put anyone at ease, and that’s how I’m feeling despite the underlying tension between us. We move on to the second episode when it autoplays, and Sungjin and I steal a glance at each other when during the opening sequence, quickly averting our gazes when we catch each other’s eye. In my defence, I’m just checking if he’s still on board with Episode 2.

While the episode proper hasn’t started yet, Sungjin checks his phone for an SOS and upon finding none, he sets it back on top of the table. Surreptitiously, I do the same and find another message waiting for me. One that isn’t from Younghyun or Matthew.

joonie: you might want to consider if you’re being unfair to him. even if he says and appears to be complicit to your activities, you must remember the guy has expressed romantic feelings for you. these feelings cannot easily be ignored, and in the event he is hoping that you might change your mind about him through his patience and his actions, you must ascertain that the communication lines are clear for miscommunication is the root of many conflicts. assert that you are both speaking and communicating in the same language and are on the same page. i believe in you and i trust your judgment completely. pls be careful and stay safe.

Thanks? I guess?

I can’t deal with that right now because I missed the start of the mystery because I just had to finish reading that too long however necessary message from, perhaps, the only person in this world I can rely on.

That’s a lie.

There’s another person I can rely on and he’s sitting right next to me.

I catch his gaze on me again. “What is it?”

Sungjin shakes his head. “I’m not getting anything from the others. I guess they’re okay?”

“If you’re asking me if they’ve been messaging me, you just have to ask? I don’t get why you’re beating around the bush like this with me of all people when you’re usually so straightforward.”

“Are the guys okay?”

“Yeah,” I answer, and a tiny wave of guilt wiggles under my skin. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to be snippy.”

“It’s alright. You’re right, anyway. I guess I’m just trying too hard to find a in-between with you.”

We watch the next two episodes, both of us getting even more comfortable on the couch we’re at that point that it’s beginning to get uncomfortable just sitting when there are other positions much more conducive to binge watching. The series is interesting enough, and it’s so good I forget I’m next to Sungjin.

But it’s impossible to forget I’m next to Sungjin.

After Episode 4, he pauses the app and gets up. “I’m going to get more tea. Do you want anything?”

“What’s in your kitchen?” I haven’t been here for all of two weeks so I don’t know what the state of the nation is.

“Tea, instant coffee, Toronto’s prepackaged americanos, Long Beach’s special milk, some soda. Terrible things to have, probably. A lot of junk. There’s BM’s protein stuff. We also have water. Really good water. Water is good for you.”

I laugh. “Get me a soda? One of Long Beach’s orange sodas if he has any.”

“Sure.”

Now that I have some time to think, I type my response to that too long message even though all I know for sure is that the best case scenario here is I leave before anything happens. Because at the rate we’re going? Something is going to happen. I just don’t know what it is yet.

me: am I being unfair?

joonie: we can only hope that our actions do not cause other people pain. and that you are not causing yourself undue stress and pain. be honest with yourself and confront your own worries and fears. maybe it is best to have that conversation after all? what are you so afraid of?

Where do I even begin?


	6. Chapter 6

A quarter of my life on this Earth and I can say I’ve already seen too much, and I’m afraid of knowing what I know about love and relationships.

Ever since I can remember, I’ve just had this strange aversion to relationships, platonic or otherwise. Be it mine or the other people around me. Sometimes I want to blame my divorced parents, other times I’m so convinced this whole romance deal is another one of society’s fuck ups. Growing up alone meant having to learn to fend for myself. If not for Younghyun and some members of the hockey team, the only people I can truly refer to as friends are the same three people who offer me no good advice, and they too are only considered my friends because I don’t have a better word for them yet.

The idea of getting close to anyone terrifies me. Because if anyone were to truly see what’s inside me, will anyone still want to be around me? When all I have to show for are my parents’ disappointment, my almost but not just quite stellar academic career, and a whole lot of nothing, there’s really not much for me to offer in the way of being someone’s anything.

So, yes. I am afraid.

Because I know I’m not the type of girl for Sungjin. I’m not the type of girl anyone can call more than a friend.

I’m just not the type of girl anyone falls in love with.

And I know this for sure because I’ve lived my life being that girl. No one’s ever called me pretty or beautiful—even my mother has stopped doing it ever since I hit puberty. The best memory I can come up with goes something like: You’d be prettier if you smiled more, or if you dressed better, or if you fixed your face. But that’s the whole point, isn’t it? This look I have right now? The beat up boots, the ripped jeans, my frequent purchases at the men’s section of the store, it’s a statement.

Kind of.

Furthermore, no one’s really ever asked me out either. My last brush with flirtation was with a bunch of seniors who had a running bet on me. Either that or it’s a bunch of creeps who find bothering me a source of amusement. I _know_ Sungjin isn’t like that. I know he doesn’t—and won’t ever—mean me any harm, but I can’t help but shrink away from his intentions.

Because why?

Besides, being Sungjin’s girlfriend? That’s too much pressure. He’s not one to date around and have a string of puck bunnies after him. He’s the kind of guy who’s into the Grow Old Together Type of Love deal. Sungjin goes all out and all in, and…

Everyone will look at the Golden Boy, then look at me and think:

_Why her?_

I don’t have the time or the energy to risk breaking an already broken heart.

Besides, he’s got a plan and I barely know what I’m doing in the next couple of minutes, much less the next few weeks or the next few months. I might not even be here to fully experience seeing them off to the finals and win that championship. So…

Sungjin comes back from the kitchen and presses the cold can of orange soda against my cheek when he passes by me from behind. “It’s the last can, so we better make sure we leave no evidence that we are the guilty party.”

I look up at him and take the can still pressed against my cheek. Our fingers touch, and the heat of his skin sends a rush through me. “No one has to know.”

Sungjin pulls his hand away and rejoins me on the couch, closer this time in that he’s next to me and I’m next to the couch arm. The episode plays, but all I can think of is how hot Sungjin is. Not just that he’s attractive, but also literally. I’m always cold, so whenever he’s next to me his body heat always makes me feel like I’m standing next to a fire. It doesn’t matter what he’s doing, I always just end up feeling hot and tingly.

Paying attention to the episode is impossible now that I’m hyperaware of Sungjin next to me. He’s packed and lean in that grounded way, he’s definitely bigger now than when we first met—with broad shoulder, a wide chest, and muscular thighs. I’ve been watching him play hockey ever since freshmen year and while he’s never aggressive on the ice he’s got this whole authoritative thing about him. Like he’s older than he actually is and just somehow more…masculine.

Just this whole manly man thing without being threatening.

And the way he’s leaning back on the couch, one arm draped on the backrest, the other on his thigh, and his legs spread out and stretched out in front of him?

It makes me want to jump him.

So naturally I tear my gaze away from him and focus on the blur of events on the wall. Every couple of seconds, I catch myself sneaking glances at his side profile. His long sooty lashes kiss the arches of his cheeks when he blinks, and his tall, regal, perfect, _perfect_ nose is just…so…

And the curve of his lips?

I concentrate on the murder. Or I think it’s murder. The episode feels more serious than the one before it, and there’s this long drawn out conversation between the leads, and I’m trying to focus on the words and what’s happening, but whatever resolve I have managed to collect falls away when the two leads start kissing passionately on screen.

I knock my knees together and squeeze my legs tight. What punishment is this?

Sungjin pauses the episode and turns to me. His voice is gruff. “It’s getting late.”

I blink again and take in the darkness of the lounge, the paused episode projected against the wall, and the silence of the hockey house. On a Friday night, the boys are not likely to be back until after 3 in the morning. “I’ll sleep here.”

“You are not sleeping _here_.”

There’s no room there to argue, and I’m sure there’s a long list of justifiable reasons why sleeping out here on the couch in the lounge is a terrible idea so I’m just going to take his word for it and call it a night. “Crashing on Younghyun’s bed is an option but it’s too far away.”

“Either you wake yourself up and walk upstairs, or I’m carrying you all the way up the stairs.”

Okay, he is definitely flirting with me now. He cannot drop his voice that low and gaze at me from under his fringe of hair platonically. It just doesn't seem possible. I collect myself and return his gaze properly, starting from his dark eyes, down his nose and his lips, traveling all the way to the base of his throat.

I lick my lips nervously. “Don’t threaten me with a good time.”

He chuckles and the husky sound sends another round of tingles down my body. “I don’t have the strength to resist you right now, so…”

“…so?”

His eyes twinkle playfully. “So don’t look at me like you’ve been waiting all night for me to kiss you. Because I’m trying here.”

My heart is pounding louder than the banging of hockey sticks on the ice and on the boards before a game officially begins. The puck has been dropped, but Sungjin is giving me the first move. I push the thought away to think about at another date. I can’t think right now. Not with the smouldering look he’s giving me, and not with the way my motor skills are frizzed and inoperable.

Yet by some miracle, without thinking it, my fingers touch the ends of his hair, curling into the soft strands, and drifting lower to where his shoulder met his neck. He’s so warm and solid. Sungjin’s gaze turns darker and heavy lidded. I rise to my knees, and the moment stretches out between us, the tension crackling in the air and making everywhere ache.

Sungjin doesn’t make a move. Instead he watches me, waits for _me_ to make a move. He swallows hard as I see his awareness of me, of us, fall upon him. Time slows down.

A few heartbeats pass between us before I press a palm against his chest and lift my knee over his legs to straddle his hips. “Not all night,” I whisper, leaning into him and inhaling his summery scent. “More like all week?”

All month? All year? I’ve been craving for him even before I met him, it feels like.

His hand ghosts the small of my back, barely touching me before teasing the hem of my sweater and making contact. The pads of his fingers are calloused, roughly scraping against my skin, and he smells so good and he’s just so warm I feel light-headed. “You need to leave now. Go lock yourself in Younghyun’s room because I…I don’t think I can stop. I don’t want to stop.”

“I don’t want to stop either.”

His eyes drop to my mouth. “I thought we talked about this.”

“What we talked about was specific to that night we were talking about it.” Semantics, probably. “This is different. This is another page.”

“What’s happening right now?”

Why is it so sexy when he does that? “I’m not the one, but I can be the one tonight?”

Never will I tire of the way his lips lift into that smile that is also a smirk. “You…you’re really quoting song lyrics?”

I shrug. “They sound nicer than my other options. A lot more poetic.”

Because there’s nothing poetic about what I’m asking him to get into.

Sungjin releases a long exhale and tips his head back on the backrest, exposing the long column of his neck. “Now I feel like I’m the one walking into a trap.”

“Don’t say it that way.” I attempt levity and try to bring some lightness into my voice, but I can’t even hear myself through the beating of my heart. “Sungjin?”

Slowly, he lifts his head and with his hands on my hips, he pushes me off of him. I have no time to commiserate my rejection because in a rough voice he says, “Not here. Someone will walk in and while I can’t ever condone violence who knows what I’ll do to whoever sees us—sees you—so I’m going to clean up here first and you ahead upstairs. Is that okay?”

“Yes.”

I grab my backpack as Sungjin gathers his belongings, but instead of going ahead, I wait and together we walk out of the lounge and toward the stairs, past the out of service elevator covered in yellow tape, and the bulletin board. I pause by the basket of condoms and turn toward Sungjin, I half except him to be awkward but he doesn’t even hesitate and dips his hand inside to grab a couple of packets. The journey up to his room on the third floor is quiet and tense, but we make it inside without further incident.

I walk through the door first, setting my bag on the floor and untying my laces and kicking off my boots. Sungjin sets down his computer and his mug of now cold tea on his study desk. Then he opens his desk lamp, illuminating the room in a soft yellow light.

That look on his face is one I know so well, so before he even begins his Talk, I cross my arms down my body and lift my sweater off my head and toss it on top of his chair. My inner shirt follows. Then my bralette. “If you still ask me if I’m sure about this while I’m getting naked I am going to…I don’t know…I’m sure about this. You know I’m sure about—” _You_. I catch myself before I say something I can’t take back. “This. I’m sure. This is me saying yes to tonight out loud.”

Sungjin just picks up my sweater from the chair and folds it into a neat square, then my shirt, before he reaches behind him to pull off his shirt. “Of course, I have to be sure.”

I point at the condoms on top of his side table. “Safe. Responsible. What else is on your list?”

“You sure this isn’t going to affect the team?”

I raise a brow and tilt my head in challenge. “Only if you think your stick handling will be compromised by my stick handling.”

Sungjin’s smile is…so fucking hot. “Jeans.”

“Sweats.”

I push down my jeans and peel off my socks just as Sungjin is stepping out of his sweatpants and setting his house slippers aside. I wait as he folds our clothes and adds them to the stack on top of the chair. But the wait is worth it because after he’s satisfied, he’s crowding me against his drawer, the curve of his lips doing things to my brain and setting my body aflame. Every atom in my body is anticipating his touch and his kiss, but for a long, tortuous moment, all he does is look at me as he hovers over me and asserts himself over me in that subtle way only he can seem to do to me. He doesn’t even have to grab me or touch me, and already I’m falling apart in him.

And then his lips brushes mine.

His mouth is warm, and firm, but gentle. His kisses always begin soft but teasing, drawing out my patience and testing my control. I reach forward to draw him closer but he takes my wrists in a loose hold and traps my hands between us. My struggle is an act, and he knows it. He knows exactly how to play this game of push and pull. But if this were a game, Sungjin will always let me win, and I reap my rewards in his slow, insistent kiss.

Sungjin is a very focused kisser. Much like with everything he does, he pours his entire being into every moment our lips meet and every moment in the in between. Just like his game on the ice, nothing about his movements are sloppy or wasted on missteps and hesitations.

I groan when he pulls away. “You’re getting better at this.”

He smirks. “I’m a fast and dedicated learner.”

“I’ve had a long week, don’t draw this out any longer.” I am not ashamed to admit to the begging in my voice. I want this—I want him—so bad.

But Sungjin never does anything halfhearted so instead of what I ask, he takes it even slower and kisses me senseless before his hands grip my hips. And even then only to lift me up to sit on top of the drawer. Each glide of his lips against the skin of my cheek, my jaw, and my neck had purpose and I’m shivering into him before anything has really even begun. While it is against my entire philosophy to just lie here and do nothing, I give up and give in and let Sungjin do what he wants because what’s the use of fighting against him when all he wants is to give me a good time?

The moment I lean into his kisses is the moment he turns. His big rough hands claim my waist, and there is nothing polite about his touch now. Or his mouth. Not when he bends down and sucks on the skin on the underside of my breast, nipping and licking and making sure I’ll bruise in the morning.

My thoughts spin wildly away from me.

Once he’s satisfied, he holds me close and kisses me hard, taking greedy pulls and bites from my mouth and lips. His big hands slid down to my ass and pulls my body against him, closer and closer still until I feel just how hard and needy he is for me.

It’s all just absolutely perfect.

When he says he’s a dedicated learner, he means it, and he continues to kiss me and touch me like he’s going to be tested and graded on it later. But the last thing I am is patient, and I groan and wiggle against him. He just chuckles darkly into my ear and licks the inside curve of the shell. In retaliation, I push my hips against him, and this time he moans into my mouth and the sound is delicious.

Finally, he lifts me off the drawer and we lean into his bed. The rest of our clothing falls away and I lose myself in him. If I stop to think about this, about tomorrow, about what happens next, I’ll lose control and begin to sob uncontrollably into his chest so I ignore all the other thoughts and focus on Sungjin alone. If there is one thing I’m sure of, it’s that I have never felt more at ease than when I am with him. When I am just myself like this, and he isn’t padded in his uniform that acts as his armor.

When it’s like this, I can almost believe there are better days ahead.

Sungjin takes his time to do the responsible thing and I stretch out on his bed in wait. But he’s bracing himself over me willingly, so willingly, this is how it should always be. Then I’m both watching him and kissing him, and he’s touching me everywhere and kissing me everywhere, and then it’s just good everywhere. So good, the sweat on his brow is him trying not to make a sound because the walls in this residence are thin, and even though no one is around—that we know of—he will never risk it.

So I do my best and keep quiet, as quiet as the summer mornings after you’ve spent all night awake and outside. My vision becomes soft and unfocused, and all I know is Sungjin is above me, crushing me with his weight, and grounding me into this reality so I don’t slip away. He moves with a rhythm that feels like a song, and I follow as best as I can.

A loud noise filters through the gap under his door, and the voices of his drunken teammates singing some party song drifts all over the room. But Sungjin doesn’t stop. He presses his forehead against mine, smiling wickedly and daring me to…to what? I kiss him, swallowing the sounds we might have made otherwise. And then I’m arching back, crying out silently, biting into his shoulder to muffle the noise. Sungjin keeps going. Another minute? Maybe more? I don’t know. All I know is the blinding hot light at the end of all this darkness and Sungjin collapsing on top of me.

We lie together to catch our breaths, me more than him. Sungjin recovers quicker, eases himself off me and checks the condom then tidies up a bit before coming back to the bed. My heart is still pounding in my chest, and my muscles barely coming down from that high. I close my eyes and listen to the fading night.

“Are you awake?”

I blink up at Sungjin who is leaning over me, his arms bracketing my face and his hands planted firmly on either side of my head where it rests against his soft pillows. _Did_ I fall asleep?

“I’m not sleeping.”

“Can you make it home?”

“What time is it?”

“A little after 5 in the morning.”

“You’re kicking me out?” I tease. “So soon?”

“While everyone’s still passed out. I can walk you back, if you want.”

The problem with Sungjin is he’s too careful. And the thing is, I should be careful too because one can get easily lost in those eyes of his. I prop myself up on my elbows, still feeling drowsy and exhausted, but so, so satiated. “You’re making that face again.”

“What face?”

“Like you regret everything.”

He knocks his forehead against mine and brushes his nose against mine, and the gesture is so intimate, so uncalled for, I want to hate him for it. “I never regret you.”

“But you want…well…you don’t want this. Not like this.”

His eyes pull away and where there was desire is now replaced with sadness and longing. “Don’t you feel the same way?”

I ease out from under him and set my feet on the cold floor. In the dimness of his bedroom, I try to find the words to make this hurt the least amount. For him or for me, I don’t even know for sure. “If there is something between us, you should know better than think it’s worth exploring.”

“Why not?”

I don’t have an easy answer that doesn’t sound either like flimsy, long drawn excuse or a preemptive goodbye for a future I can’t predict.

“Because of hockey?” he says, angling his head to peer into my eyes.

Sure. Let’s go with that.

“Because the time it takes to be good at hockey means I don’t have time to be good at anything else?”

I don’t refute him neither do I agree with him, and I don’t know what’s worse. “We don’t have to be anything. This is fine as it is.”

“Is it?”

I get up and gather my clothes. “I like this.” And that’s as much truth as I can speak without my words slurrying into mush. “But I know you’re going to want to change my mind anyway.”

Sungjin raises his eyes at me. “And you’re going to want to prove me wrong?”

More like hope he’ll give up eventually. “Or we could just maybe have this conversation later when, you know…”

“I know.”

“Walk me home?”

He lifts a brow. Tries his best not to smile.

“I’m hungry.” I shrug. “That place that serves the really good hangover soup should be open. I might as well be hung over. Let’s go?”

And so we get dressed and go.


	7. Chapter 7

There’s something therapeutic about watching your laundry spin in the machine. Just watching it go round and round and round, hypnotising in its boringness and acting as explicit permission to let my thoughts wander. Not that my mind has to wander far this Sunday morning.

If anything, my mind seems to be stuck on Friday night and Saturday morning. Sungjin kept to his word and did not bring up The Thing, but not talking about The Thing didn’t mean neither of us were thinking about The Thing. Our imaginary conversation hung over us like a fog and clung onto our skin like cold mist. Every moment of being together felt like being suspended in some middle ground—like some purgatory for the Relationship Status: It’s Complicated.

While it’s clear to me what _I_ want, there is also no doubt about what Sungjin wants. Never has it been more straightforwardly expressed that we do not want the same thing. He wants a relationship, the whole boyfriend/girlfriend experience, and I prefer less strings attached to the benefits.

But…breakfast was nice. Sungjin is a funny guy, and he has this uncanny ability to make me laugh against my will. Also there’s nothing like the captain of the ice hockey team telling you off for not eating enough and for not drinking enough water. For those few hours, there was a stretch of time where I forgot about who he is and who I am, and caught a glimpse of what all the hype about this relationship thing is all about. Or at least I think having breakfast, waiting for the sunrise while having coffee, a second breakfast while bickering about one thing or another counts as relationshippy enough to raise it a bar above the mundane.

And then he walked me home and that was that.

I haven’t heard from him since, but then Sungjin isn’t the type to randomly send messages, or ask to meet up out of the blue. Or anyway, he’s not like that with me. Unlike _some people_ I know.

Amber, my roommate of forever, drops down next to me, straddling the bench, and pops off the lid of a medium sized food container. “So…how was the hockey butt?”

Suffice it to say, Amber knows everything. Even a few things Younghyun doesn’t, by virtue of living together, and sharing a bathroom, for the past three years. Also, it’s not like I can tell Younghyun all about this thing with Sungjin…because I’m not sure Younghyun’s totally forgiven Sungjin for what happened last initiation. So I fell on the ice a couple of times and came out bruised in the morning. I can’t skate. I have the agility of a dead rock. Was Younghyun really expecting me to just jump on the ice and start twirling out of the blue?

“The hockey butt was fine.” I drop my gaze at the container of kimbap in her hands. “I thought we’re not allowed to eat in here.”

Amber shrugs and shoves a piece into her mouth. “What can I say, the laundromat aunties adore me. You know this is from them, right? You want one?”

We’ve been going here since freshmen year because, surprise, even Amber can’t stand the thought of using the same machine as everyone else in the residence uses because they cannot be trusted with Cleanliness. At least we know the _Dirty Business_ aunties are as much clean freaks as we are. Although we’re still not completely convinced _Dirty Business _isn’t a front for actual dirty business, but whatever.

I choose a kimchi rice with cheese roll and chew thoughtfully. Amber will ask about Sungjin, as she’s wont to do, and I need to be prepared with answers because I might as well get this over with. Or…I can pretend the thing with Sungjin was just the good old roll in the hay and nothing more. That’s a valid response, isn’t it? A good roll in the hay.

Who even made up that expression?

My phone buzzes between us, and Amber and I both just stare at the preview. Most of the time, it’s Younghyun. Like, 90% of the time it’s Younghyun being annoying and needy and wanting to go do things. This morning’s example, the laundry, to which I told him to come over here quickly before the other guys catch on. So I assume he’s on his way and we’ll go get lunch. Although I’m not entirely sure he didn’t fall asleep again.

But, unfortunately, the latest message is not from Younghyun.

It’s Sungjin.

Amber pushes another roll into her mouth. In a singsong voice she says, “Your hockey butt wants to know when he see can you again.”

“Are we really calling him that now?”

Amber just makes a face like this should all be obvious by now. “Yeah? Duh? And seriously, are you not even going to open your messages? You have like, a bajillion unopened.” She waggles her brows at me. “But, moving on to what’s really important here. What actually happened Friday night? Because whatever that was lasted all the way until morning and now you have a date invite.”

“Just the usual?” I shrug. “And it’s not a date. We didn’t have the conversation, so I guess now he wants to talk. Why can’t he just message me what he wants to talk about. It’s easier that way, isn’t it?”

Because words. And speaking words out loud. Not my most developed skill sets.

Amber turns serious for a moment. “Because some conversations just have to be had face to face?”

“Should I go? Is this something I should do?”

“It’s really up to you.”

“Do you think I’m being unfair to him?” In my heart, I know the answer to this already, but I have to hear someone else say it first. Someone objective. Someone I can trust. Someone I know has my best interest at heart. Someone _not_ from the hockey team.

Amber lifts her cap and runs her hand through the short crop of her hair before flipping the cap around and putting it on backwards. This means serious business. “You guys had sex, like, three times. And maybe the first one wasn’t, you know, amazeballs, but like the first one never counts—it’s like a trial subscription. But the second time, you said he made you come, like, what, five times?”

I mean, I guess the aunties and the moms sitting next to us wouldn’t mind hearing all about my sex life. Shifting my gaze back to my spin cycle, I add Amber’s analogy about trial subscriptions to my list of things that will keep me up at night and distract me while in the middle of an important exam. Or an interview. “It wasn’t five times. It was like…two…and a half.”

“What the fuck is a half orgasm?”

“It’s…it’s a thing, okay? Just…just go with it. But really? Five times? Is that even possible?” It sounds too good to be true.

“You don’t know that,” Amber shoots back, rolling her eyes. “It could totally be plausible. But the point is, the dude did the work and that merits a conversation, I think. At least clear the air, you know? Because it’s not like you can avoid each other. But you also can’t be friends with a guy who’s probably half-way in love with you. So, like, you gotta make sure there’s a line there. A good finely drawn line you know not to cross because Danger! Warning! Do Not Cross The Line.”

As if Sungjin and I don’t already know there’s a line between us we’re not supposed to cross. We’ve skirted and danced around that line, toed the edges and gone as far as Technically Not Crossing The Line can go. And maybe that’s why the line is blurred. Maybe that’s why the line feels like a string, drawn so taut, it’s ready to snap at any instant.

“I don’t think he’s—”

“Seriously?” Amber cuts in. “You don’t think he’s half-way in love with you?”

“I don’t know that he is,” I contest. Vehemently. Or as vehemently as I can. Which is, compared to Amber’s regular intensity, not much of a blip in the universe. “We don’t know if he’s there yet. Stop saying that he is.”

“Well, where else do you think he’s going? Besides…down on you…”

“In the middle of this train of thought? Really?”

“What? Where else he is going? He likes you. He said as much.”

“Don’t remind me.” I groan and bury my face in my hands. “I know it’s not fair to be friends with someone who wants more than what I can give because that’s just unfair. I know it’s unfair. I know that must be hard for him. It’s hard on me too. It gets so awkward when we’re around each other because of course I feel guilty. Especially when he’s been such a decent guy about it.”

“So you decide. You go like, so dude, you know I’d tap that hockey butt all day long and all night long, but the whole love thing just gives me the hives and _ew_ cooties—ow! Hey!”

I don’t have the words, so I just let my hands drop between my knees after I give Amber another good shove for measure. She makes it all sound so simple when it never truly is. And maybe one day in the future, this will all make sense to me and Amber might even be right—that all this really is far more simpler than we make it out to be—but that day is not today. Today, this whole situation with Sungjin feels like too much.

“I’m not even sure what you’re avoiding here,” Amber asks with a softer tone to her voice. “What _do_ you have against the guy? He’s a good guy. Everyone knows he’s a good guy. Or is it not the guy? Is it the institution? Because, you know, you don’t have to, like, take it seriously. I don’t think he’s gonna ask you to marry him straight outta graduation or, like, tomorrow. You know how these things are. I mean that’s the whole point of dating, right? To have someone to go on dates with. Have fun, and all that shit.While no one’s giving us grief over our ovaries and whatever.”

I filter out most of that and go for the only point that matters at the moment.

“But he will take this whole thing seriously.” Maybe not in the sense of forever and babies, god forbid. “And when people are not on the same page, people get hurt. Even I know that.”

Because that’s what my mom said when my parents and the lawyers finalised the divorce. That she and Dad got married too soon, that they weren’t on the same page when they started, and no one had been willing to slow down or catch up, so in the end was it really surprising that they didn’t work out? They call it irreconcilable differences.

My machine beeps and the cycle comes to a pause. “I don’t think I’m ready for that. Especially when, you know.”

“Does _he_ know?”

“_I_ don’t even know for sure, so what’s the point in telling anyone?”

“I know.”

“Because you’re nosy.” I should probably get up and do my second batch before someone tells me off, but…eh. I’ll wait for Amber’s batch to finish then we can get up together.

“Because all of a sudden we were going out every night and getting shit-faced wasted—I’m not complaining, that week was awesome—but like…you don’t do that unless something’s _really_ bothering you. And this is big. I mean, I know. Brian knows. Who else knows?”

Sometimes I forget that everyone else who doesn’t really know Younghyun calls him Brian. To be fair, he was Brian when he walked into the Introductory Culture class, and he’s Brian in most of this classes, and he’s Brian because that’s the persona he wants to play. I just can’t remember when, to me, he stopped being Brian and started being Younghyun. Or, if you’re part of the team, Toronto.

Of course, Younghyun knows. Until Amber, he was the only who knew. “Just the two of you.”

“And you don’t think Captain Hockey Butt deserves to know?” Her machine comes to a stop as well and we give it another moment. Or maybe we’ll wait until someone tells us off. That’s always fun.

“How am I even going to begin that conversation? Oh, by the way, I don’t want to go out with you even if I might be, kind of, sort of, not really so totally against the idea, _ish_, because I’m either transferring to the straight med school program and that means quitting hockey and having no time for absolutely anything or anyone else, or if not that I’m going back to San Francisco after graduation because my mother said so?”

“That is a long convoluted way to say you like the guy.”

“I don’t really like the guy…in that way.”

“Sure.”

“I don’t.”

“But he likes you. Oh, come on. Don’t make that face.”

“What face?”

“The same face you make when you’re around babies! Or cats. Or cute things.”

Amber and I share a glance before we both get up and transfer our clothes to the dryer. Then we load our second batch and return to our seats. The moms and aunties have turned their backs to us, but I do not doubt one bit that they’re listening to our conversation. I’m surprised no one’s offering unsolicited advice just yet. It must be the aesthetic of Amber and I together. One can only imagine their internal thoughts.

At least the _Dirty Business_ aunties like us.

Yeah, maybe we really should look into that.

“He likes you, okay?” Amber says, offering me the container of rolls. “Just start with acknowledging that fact.”

There’s no arguing with Amber. She’s like Jae. Not only are they in the same program, they also have this knack of making sense when you least expect them to. Or want them to.

“Fine. We’ll begin with acknowledging that fact.”

“And don’t feel, I don’t know, guilty about it? It’s not like his fault he likes you. Or your fault. Because you are awesome. If only by association because of me, but you know. You’re welcome.”

“Thanks? I think?”

“I do have an alternative.”

I shake my head, already knowing where this leads. This won’t be the first time, and won’t be the last time. So I just pop another roll in my mouth and chew and shut up because Amber is dead serious about her alternative solutions to my problems.

“Next time Wendy and I got out, come with us. We’ll set you up with Sehun. Or Irene. Your pick. That offer still good as supplies are…well…still available. Come on, it’ll be fun. Double date! Double date! Yeah? Yeah!”

“You know we still haven’t decided how to respond to this message.”

Amber bursts out laughing. “Oh, right. We didn’t yet.”

She hands me my phone. With it a look that says this is Make or Break.

I want to say she’s exaggerating this moment, but also maybe sometimes I have to be forced into these things otherwise the things are never happening.

“Fine.” I swipe my phone from her hands.

Luckily, that’s when Younghyun walks into this fine establishment.

Amber just rolls her eyes again, and I give her my best effort at a smile.


End file.
